


Perfect

by maddervanilla



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 05:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18614383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddervanilla/pseuds/maddervanilla
Summary: Chanyeol has always been falling in love with Baekhyun, and Jongdae believes in their happy ending.





	1. I Have Met An Angel

 

_I found a love_

_for me_

 

Park Chanyeol was five years old, ears sticking out too far, cheeks too chubby, glasses and a ferret perched on his shoulder when he met Byun Baekhyun. It wasn’t an unforgettable day. He still doesn’t remember what Baekhyun was wearing, no matter how many times he looked at the pictures in the thick scrapbook Baekhyun had started to put together in the eighth grade. He doesn’t remember which one of them spoke first. But he does remember that they sat under the cherry blossom tree that had been cut down last year, and Chanyeol couldn’t stop staring at the mole above Baekhyun’s lips. He remembers how Baekhyun’s voice and his laughter settled warmly in Chanyeol’s chest as if it was returning home.

 

_Oh darling just dive right in_

_and follow my lead_

 

Chanyeol was fifteen years old when he tipped over the edge he had been precariously balancing on and fell in love with Baekhyun. It wasn’t all at once. It was insignificant moments, little things. He was falling without knowing he was falling until he heard Baekhyun humming along to the clumsy strumming of his guitar (another one of Chanyeol’s fleeting interests his parents had thought). Sitting on the kitchen countertop while Baekhyun poured hot water into two cups of ramen, Chanyeol’s fingers halted on the strings. Baekhyun asked him why he had stopped playing, stirring the noodles with a pair of chopsticks, and Chanyeol couldn’t stop staring at the chocolate chip mole at the corner of his thumb.

“Baek, you were humming,” he said softly. 

“Mhmm.” 

“It sounded nice.”

“Well, Yoda, maybe you should practice more so I can actually sing for you then.” 

Chanyeol hit the rocks the summer before their second year of high school. He dove fast into music and fast into the melody of Baekhyun’s voice, picking up drumsticks and becoming familiar with the feeling of cold ivory keys under his fingertips. He helplessly fell in love with his best friend, only hoping that Baekhyun would eventually follow his lead. 

 

_Well, I found a ~~girl~~ boy, beautiful and sweet_

_Oh, and I never knew you were the someone waiting for me_

 

During their final year of high school, students panicking over college essays and entrance exams, Baekhyun told Chanyeol that he had a crush on someone. 

It wasn’t immediate, but it slowly sank in that his heart was being broken. It was a numbing pain that he felt in his chest trying not to break down in front of Baekhyun as he gushed about the tall, blonde basketball player that winked at him during the game last week. 

“Do you think he likes me Yeol?” Baekhyun asked, a light in his eyes that Chanyeol had never seen before. But there was also insecurity, and Chanyeol wanted to crush it down, touch the mole that dotted the dip of Baekhyun’s upper lip and tell him that he was the most beautiful person in Chanyeol’s small world. 

“Of course he does, Baek.”

And of course, he did. 

Chanyeol was slumped down on his bed, hugging the neck of his guitar and twisting the tuning pegs absentmindedly. The sting behind his eyes hadn’t gone away yet, but Jongdae running around with his head cut off on the phone, the rustling of papers as he frantically searched for the acceptance letter he had lost, calmed him down enough. 

“Dude, I’m so screwed.” 

“Baekhyun is dating someone.” 

Jongdae had frozen on the other end, his mattress lifted up in the air (no acceptance letter). 

“THE FUCK! WHO?” 

“I don’t know. Some guy on the basketball team.” 

“Shit.”

“He’s tall and blonde.” 

“Double shit.”

Jongdae dropped his mattress and hurried over to Chanyeol’s house with a fresh box of hot rice cakes. When he swung open Chanyeol’s bedroom door, his dumb friend was lying facedown on the pillows, stifling the tears that were finally falling. He weakly lifted up an arm, Jongdae’s goddamn acceptance letter in his hand. 

“I found it,” Chanyeol mumbled. 

They blasted the house through with heavy metal until Chanyeol couldn’t hear the pieces of glass flying around in his chest, until they couldn't even hear each other. Jongdae submitted his response, a minute before the deadline, a simple “I will be attending the fall semester this year.” 

Everyone was moving on, leaving people behind, saying goodbye to familiar places. 

Chanyeol waited for Baekhyun. 

 

_‘Cause we were just kids when we fell in love_

_Not knowing what it was_

 

Byun Baekhyun was five years old, bouncy hair and still tripping over his feet when he met Park Chanyeol. It was an unforgettable day. He remembered how he saw the ferret, the ears, and then the boy. He remembered how Chanyeol followed him under the cherry blossom tree like a puppy. He remembered how Chanyeol laughed with his entire body falling backward onto the wood chips, the happiness clinging to his infectious smiles. He remembers Chanyeol promising tomorrow, and the next day. 

But Baekhyun doesn’t remember falling in love with Chanyeol. Maybe it happened too fast to determine the exact moment his heart started to flip whenever Chanyeol smiled at him. 

He fell in love with Chanyeol, and he didn’t even know. 

 

_I will not give you up this time_

 

Kris. 

The bastard’s name was Kris. 

When Baekhyun introduced his new boyfriend to Chanyeol, he was glowing, the sun behind his head and the shadow of cherry blossoms dancing over his cheeks. Baekhyun looked so beautiful when he was falling in love. 

Chanyeol looked like a wreck. 

“I don’t like him,” Jongdae scowled when Baekhyun walked away with Kris. 

It hurt. 

It hurt like hell. 

Chanyeol thought he had gotten over the initial pain of seeing Baekhyun with someone else, but the dull ache was still there. 

If Chanyeol was given a second chance, he wouldn’t have given up Baekhyun so easily. 

 

_But darling, just kiss me slow_

_Your heart is all I own_

 

Baekhyun changed.

New friends.

New dreams.

And they didn’t include Chanyeol anymore. 

Baekhyun hadn’t been around lately, always with Kris. Chanyeol only saw him in the hallways on his way to class. 

And the parties. 

Chanyeol had never gone to one, and neither had Baekhyun. Friday nights had always been theirs. But recently, Baekhyun could be spotted in all of the pictures posted online, red solo cup in his hand and Kris always next to him.

Baekhyun had changed. 

Eyeliner and skin-tight jeans, shirts that dipped too low. 

“How do I look?” Baekhyun had asked Chanyeol, fidgeting with the couple ring on his fourth finger. 

“Wow, you look great, Baek,” Jongdae answered instead. 

But Baekhyun was still only looking at his best friend. “Chanyeol?” 

He lifted a hand to touch the right corner of Baekhyun’s strawberry glossed lips. “Your mole?”

“Oh, the makeup concealed it.”

Chanyeol frowned “Why?” 

Baekhyun shrugged. “It wasn’t noticeable anyway.” 

_It was._

The bell rang and Chanyeol quickly grabbed a textbook from his locker. “See you later, Baek.” Jongdae was already gone, and he turned to leave too but Baekhyun caught his wrist. Chanyeol stared at the hand that grasped the sleeve of his black, faded hoodie, eyes immediately finding the mole on Baekhyun’s left thumb. 

“You didn’t answer the question yet, Yeol,” Baekhyun said, a teasing flicker in his eyes masking insecurity that Chanyeol thought had been banished away for good. "How do I look?" 

He pulled away and leaned in close, licking his thumb and rubbing it across the skin above Baekhyun’s lips until he could he see his tiny black mole again. 

“There,” he said. “Now you look perfect.” 

Baekhyun beamed at him. His eyes were two crescents of the moon. “Thanks, Yoda.” 

Baekhyun had changed.

Chanyeol’s heart stayed the same. 

 

_And in your eyes_

_your holding mine_

 

It was inevitable, Baekhyun running back to him after he had seen Kris kissing some other guy in the locker rooms. He cried, sobs wretched and broken. Chanyeol was furious and Baekhyun didn’t understand it. But Jongdae did, calling Sehun from his Home Ec class to smash Kris’ precious car. Baekhyun was horrified when he saw the total damage of two bats and a dozen spray cans sent to Chanyeol’s phone. 

“You told Jongdae to wreck Kris’ car?” Baekhyun asked, coming into the kitchen like a hurricane, eyes bloodshot and angry, a menace wrapped in blankets. 

“No.”

“What the fuck, Chanyeol?” 

Chanyeol spun and faced Baekhyun, his temper sparked and burning. “Why the fuck do you care?” 

Chanyeol didn’t mean to raise his voice so high, and he regretted it when Baekhyun flinched away. But he saw the way Baekhyun’s shoulders dropped and his eyes watered instantly, and he knew that it wasn’t because of him. 

“You still love him, don’t you?” 

Baekhyun’s silence gave him the answer. He swiped his car keys from the kitchen countertop and for once, walked away from Baekhyun, but he left his heart behind like he always did. 

 

_Baby, I’m dancing in the dark_

_with you between my arms_

 

It was the final party of the year and Jongdae dragged him along, something about making memories one last time. Chanyeol’s headache started three blocks away, trying to find a parking spot in the line of cars that had packed the sidewalks. It started to pound his skull when he rejected the fourth girl who tried to dance with him. When he saw Baekhyun sitting on Kris’s lap, brilliant smile shining brighter than the multicolored lights, he felt his brain melt to mush. When Baekhyun saw him, his smile fell into nothing, and Chanyeol walked away again, but not before he watched Kris slide a hand up Baekhyun’s leg and kiss him. 

He hadn’t talked to Baekhyun since the day he slammed the gas and drove away from his house, leaving him to pick up the pieces of his heart alone, just like Chanyeol had done. He had pulled up into Jongdae’s driveway, calling him to come outside with a pack of beer, his Linkin Park album, and a bat. Jongdae didn’t ask for reasons. While Chanyeol plundered the hood of Kris’ car down to the engine, he had leaned against the dented doors and sipped his beer, “Heavy” blowing up Chanyeol’s car radio. Later on, when the strength of his swings weakened and he collapsed on the gravel crying out years of heartbreak, Jongdae had picked him up and drove him back home. 

It was past midnight, and Chanyeol wanted to go home. Sleep. He was so tired. As he refilled his solo cup in the kitchen, he saw Baekhyun step out into the backyard. 

No Kris. 

He tipped back his cup, the burn drizzling down his throat and followed him. Outside, Baekhyun stood barefoot in the middle of the grass. Alone. 

“Hey, Baek,” Chanyeol whispered into the chill of the night. 

Baekhyun spun around, arms hugging himself tightly, eyeliner smudged by tears, his nose and cheeks blooming red. And then his arms were around Chanyeol, holding him tight, faint voice saying, “I’m so sorry.” 

Baekhyun didn’t let go and so Chanyeol didn’t either. They swayed, Baekhyun sniffling into Chanyeol’s shirt.

Under the stars, Baekhyun returned his heart. 

 

_Barefoot on the grass_

 

Chanyeol spun Baekhyun around, his light laughter surrounding them. 

“Get the keg!” Jongdae yelled, watching the two idiots dancing in the backyard. “We’re drinking to love tonight!” 

 

_Listening to our favorite song_

 

The slide of the french door interrupted the silence. “Ya, Baekhyun!”

Chanyeol groaned. 

“You better kiss that idiot tonight!” 

Chanyeol slipped a shoe off and kicked it into the air, aiming for Jongdae’s head. 

“You ungrateful son of a bitch!” 

And the other shoe went flying as well. 

“Okay, I’ll leave you two alone,” Jongdae said. “But I expect you on your knees later, Park!”

“Dae,” Chanyeol warned and Baekhyun giggled into his neck. 

“An unfortunate misuse of words—” 

“JONGDAE!”

Jongdae dashed inside. The chaotic noise of the party entered the evening air for a second, Jongdae telling the DJ to “shut that shit down,” and then it was quiet again. 

“Can you sing?” Chanyeol asked. 

Baekhyun nodded, looking up at him, eyes reflecting the stars. And he sang, the soft legato of his voice wavering. He broke off on a note when Chanyeol cupped a rough hand underneath his jaw and tilted his face up. 

Baekhyun let the thought slip into his mind that he might be falling in love again. 

 

_When you said you looked like a mess_

_I whispered underneath my breath_

 

“Are you going to kiss me?” 

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“I look like a mess.” 

Baekhyun did, eyeliner streaking down his cheeks and eyes swollen. 

 

_But you heard it_

 

“No you don’t,” Chanyeol whispered, a final assurance that Baekhyun should never feel anything less than beautiful. 

And kissed him.

 

_Darling, you look perfect tonight_

  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 


	2. A Sequel (Finally)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol finally receives the love he's been giving.

 

_Well I found a love_

 

Baekhyun was admittedly, oblivious. 

He hadn't noticed when the way Chanyeol looked at him changed, or how Chanyeol had changed, becoming more distant, a bright light that dimmed as you drove away from it, farther and farther, until you couldn't recognize it at all. 

"You're an idiot," Jongdae announced as if reading out a royal declaration. 

"Why?"

"First, since I believe in redemption, I'll give you a chance to tell me why  _you_  think you're an idiot," he said. 

Jongdae was sitting by the corner of Baekhyun's bed, snipping off Kris’ head (his now ex-boyfriend) from every picture they had taken together with an inexplicable amount of enjoyment. "I'll also give you a hint: Chanyeol." 

"Chanyeol?" 

"Mhmm."

"My so-called best friend who yelled at and then left me after my heart was broken by an inbred jock?" Baekhyun pouted.

He checked his phone again. The last text he had sent to Chanyeol was left on read.  _Where did you go Yeol?_

Jongdae paused his scaled-down executions and looked at him. "He's in love with you Baekhyun." 

Baekhyun laughed, incredulous. "No, he isn't." 

But a sort of helplessness had defeated Jongdae's expression and it quieted him. 

"I didn't know." 

Jongdae sighed. "That's why you're an idiot."

 

_Stronger than any one I’ve ever known_

 

As they swayed together on the grass, Baekhyun’s heart mended whole again. Chanyeol arms around him made him feel engulfed but not suffocated, like Kris' often did. He could feel Chanyeol smile underneath the palm of his hand and considered how easy it was to make him happy, and just as easy it was to hurt him—how open his heart was. He had returned back to someone he had lost, had forgotten, had loved longer than he had anyone else. 

 

_He shares his dream with me_

 

Chanyeol rushed up to Baekhyun after school, holding an acceptance letter from a prestigious school of music in Seoul. They had been dating only a few weeks, their relationship somewhere on the first pages of being rewritten. Chanyeol was still carefully taking each step, thinking the wrong one could wake him up from the dream he was sure this was. But right then, he lifted Baekhyun up with a vibrant laugh, spun him around and then kissed him, in front of their classmates and Jongdae’s coy smirk. It was the first time Chanyeol had kissed him without caution, knowing that he could, and Baekhyun, naturally, intertwined his arms around Chanyeol’s neck, reaching up on his toes. The consciousness of knowing that happiness was Chanyeol’s gentle hands holding his, Chanyeol's eyes becoming the brightest light in the universe when he looked at him, Baekhyun in that moment, feeling the beaming smile Chanyeol pressed to his lips, could only selfishly think about the three hundred miles that would separate them by the end of the year. 

 

_And has become my home_

 

As he drives, Jongdae reproaches Baekhyun like a mother scolding her child. “I shouldn’t have to remind you to spend time with your boyfriend.” 

“We’re both very busy,” Baekhyun says. 

Especially Chanyeol, who had practically moved into the recording studio on campus as the deadline for a major songwriting project was approaching. 

And Baekhyun was feeling homesick as he studied for his finals, so he wasn't in the mood to do anything else besides review class notes or read textbook chapters over and over again. He missed the indelible familiarity of his childhood bedroom that he couldn’t replicate in his college dorm, just simply re-create anew, tacking up wrinkled posters on the wall and sleeping under the same covers he’s had since he invited a girl over to help him with his chemistry homework, before he knew that he liked boys, when he knew that he was supposed to like girls, and brought her up to his room. He was embarrassed when she pointed at his sky-blue bedsheets, thin clouds that looked like pulled-apart cotton balls dispersed across it, and said, “Those are for little boys Baekhyun, not manly men.”  

He missed the smells, not artificial scents from burning candles but the unremovable scent that attaches itself to the walls of a house, to a person that someone could unmistakably identify them by.

“And besides, we talked this morning.” 

“That doesn’t count. Chanyeol is like a newborn baby. He needs physical touch, emotional engagement. Do you know what happens to newborn babies when they’re deprived affection, Baekhyun?”

“What?” 

“They  _die_ , Baekhyun. You’re going to kill my best friend.” 

“Theater kids,” Baekhyun mutters as they pull up to the security booths outside the campus' parking lot and pay the visitor’s toll. “So dramatic.” 

But Jongdae was right. When they see Chanyeol, he looks worn-through, something precious that had been roughly handled, and Baekhyun’s heart twists in his chest, the heavy weight of guilt pressing down deep when he observes just how surprised Chanyeol was to see him, how unexpected he was.

“Baekhyun? What are you doing here?” 

“Saving your life,” Jongdae interjects. “With take-out.” 

He sets down the bag of galbi and tonkatsu on Chanyeol’s lap, immediately turns around and leaves, yelling back while he waits for the elevator, “And get a fucking driver’s license, Byun.” 

Baekhyun wonders what the most painful way to die is. 

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Chanyeol says. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the doorway before stepping aside to let Baekhyun into the cramped space. “Here.” He stacks some music sheets into a pile to clear an area on the table. 

As Baekhyun sits down, he asks, “Can you play me something? Whatever you’ve been working on.” 

Chanyeol’s eyes endearingly brighten. He picks up a guitar that was propped against the table’s legs and drops into a chair by the soundboards. A melody falls from his fingers, accompanied by his voice, lower, raspier than what Baekhyun had listened to when Chanyeol still tripped over the strings and paused after each chord to find the next. 

“Do you like it?” Chanyeol asks when the final note had fluttered out.

Baekhyun was unable to compress the floating feelings around in his head. 

_Brightness._

_Clear blue skies._

_Warmth._

“It sounds like you.” 

“Me?” 

“Happy,” he says. “It sounds happy.” 

Chanyeol smiles. “Thank you.” 

He stands up and takes out the boxes of food from the take-out bag. “I should heat this up.”

“Chanyeol.” 

“Hm.” 

“C’mere.” 

Chanyeol looks uncertain but he walks to Baekhyun. When he was close enough, Baekhyun reaches out and brings him in. He places a hand on the breadth of his shoulders and takes off the cap Chanyeol's wearing with the other, his disheveled hair left unbound falling aside to obscure his eyes like a sheepdog. Baekhyun realizes he wasn’t homesick. He had just missed Chanyeol. Very much. 

“I missed you," Baekhyun says so quietly he thought that he hadn’t said it all yet. "I did.” 

Chanyeol was looking at him with that particular wonder in his eyes, as if what was happening wasn’t really happening. Baekhyun nudges him forward, shifting his legs slightly so Chanyeol could step even closer, and kisses him softly, feeling almost nothing at all except the breath Chanyeol gasps out. He dissolves into Chanyeol hands on his waist, underneath his blue, slightly oversized sweater that Baekhyun had worn to hide the inevitable college weight he had gained.

"You've been eating well," Chanyeol speaks into his neck, and then kisses it, pinching the pudge Baekhyun had squeezed into tight jeans. "I get worried." 

When they pull apart, three words were resting on Baekhyun’s tongue with considerable weight, the frightening unknown of saying them aloud and handing your heart over bleeding and beating. But he speaks them, knowing and trusting that Chanyeol would take care of it. 

"I love you.” 

Chanyeol blinks adorably and then smiles, differently, wider and more breathtaking, his dimples appearing like two stars, and Baekhyun wonders why he hadn't noticed the mole spotted on the bridge of his nose before. 

"Say something," he mumbles. 

“I’m so lucky,” Chanyeol whispers, as if telling a secret.  

No, Baekhyun thinks.  

He is. 

 

_I found a love_

 

Baekhyun was frustrated. 

“It’s been almost a year Jongdae,” Baekhyun said, munching on a chocolate-covered strawberry, “and we still haven’t done it.” 

Jongdae looked like an animal that had just stepped into a trap. “Hosted a wine tasting party with various cheeses?” 

Baekhyun frowned. “No. Sex, Dae,  _sex_.” 

“Oh.” 

“Shouldn’t he want to? Every guy I’ve been with has. At least by the third week.” 

“Of course he wants to, Baekhyun. Maybe he’s not ready yet, or maybe he thinks you’re not ready yet. And besides,” he added, “Chanyeol isn’t every guy you’ve been with.” 

Jongdae was right. Again.

 

_To carry more than just my secrets_

 

“Do you think I’m fat?” Baekhyun blurted out. They were watching Zootopia for the third time because it was currently Chanyeol's favorite movie and Baekhyun was indefinitely whipped and unable to say no to him. 

“Of course not,” Chanyeol said, looking away from the screen and at him. “Why would you even ask that?” 

“Do you think I’m ugly?” 

“No,” Chanyeol takes his hands, delicate against the roughness of his. “Baekhyun, you’re beautiful.” 

“Then why don’t you want to have sex with me?” 

Chanyeol didn't answer as quickly as he had before. “Baekhyun," he hesitated. "I-I just don’t want to.” 

Baekhyun's insecurity filled the silence that rose up. He picked up his things quickly. 

“Baekhyun,  _please_.” 

But he was already on the other side of the door.

 

_To carry love_

 

Baekhyun had curled up under the sheets. The dorm was empty, Jongdae at his third party in two weeks. He would've gone too, but Baekhyun had plummeted since he found himself wanting to spend more and more time with Chanyeol instead. "I'm so embarrassed." 

"YOU SHOULD TALK TO HIM!" 

Baekhyun's ears strained to comprehend what Jongdae was saying over the loud music that blasted through the phone call. "What did you say?"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" Jongdae yelled back. 

"I ASKED—" 

Someone knocked on the door. 

Chanyeol. 

Baekhyun gasped. "That's him." 

"WHAT?" 

He sighed and hung up.  

When he opened the door, Chanyeol stepped in, not all the way, just past the border that divided his dorm from the hall, looking quite miserable. He said his name tenderly, each syllable surfacing like ripples in water, and Baekhyun didn't realize that he had already forgiven him until he immediately did. 

"It's okay," he said.  

“No," Chanyeol said, his eyebrows tilted upward, "it’s not." 

And then Baekhyun saw it: insecurity. For the first time, Baekhyun felt that Chanyeol was leaning on him, needing him, instead of the other way around. He pulled him into the room completely, closed the door and simply kissed him. Chanyeol pushed himself closer, his lips chasing. 

“I want to," he spoke between kisses, "have sex with you." Chanyeol pulled away, leaning his forehead against Baekhyun's, breathing heavily. "But I’m scared." 

Baekhyun frowned. "Why?"

Sadness and guilt stormed in Chanyeol's eyes. "I’ve never done it before. I don’t know how to." 

Baekhyun suddenly felt awful. It struck him how small Chanyeol looked in front of him, waiting for his reaction. So he smiled, small but reassuring, and tiptoed to kiss the mole on Chanyeol's nose he had unforgivably just discovered. “We don’t have to Chanyeol.” 

Chanyeol immediately shook his head. “I want to," he insisted. "Just tell me what to do.” 

Baekhyun nodded and kissed Chanyeol again, more carefully this time, trying to be as gentle as Chanyeol always was. Then he took off his shirt, goosebumps rising on his skin in the chilled room, the broken radiator in the corner only coughing out puffs of heat. Chanyeol was staring, stunned, unsure what to do with his hands, so Baekhyun laid them on the curve of his hips and held it there until Chanyeol slowly moved, touching the mole below Baekhyun’s ribcage. 

Eventually, they fell onto the bed, Chanyeol on top of him, his hands shaking and stumbling before becoming more confident. The scent of sweet cologne and freshly washed linen surrounded Baekhyun along with the overwhelming warmth that had always clung to Chanyeol, leaving spots of heat where his fingertips pressed. Baekhyun enjoyed Chanyeol’s weight, the tickle of hair on his skin, lips bowing to the inside of his thighs. He fell asleep that night feeling lighter than the clouds on his sky-blue bedsheets. 

 

_We are still kids, but we're so in love_

_Fighting against all odds_

 

Words were unpredictable in the way they waited, unstable, either an empty round or a loaded one that would land deep and cut through the both of them. 

Baekhyun finally understood this when he and Chanyeol fought, as it was inevitable. No two people were strong enough to never. He was afraid because he had found too much in Chanyeol that couldn't be balanced, compensated, while Chanyeol clutched tightly onto doubts that he didn’t have enough. All that remained in the backwash was their voices broken and ripped apart and the desperation as they looked at each other.

And love hurts more when you’re young and your heart hasn’t been hardened yet, when you don’t know how to catch yourself as you fall.

And it hurt mostly because they had hurt each other. 

 

_I know we'll be alright this time_

 

But one of them always yields, unable to withstand the pull they orbited inside. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I'm sorry.” 

 

_Darling, just hold my hand_

 

Chanyeol had forgotten their date, at least that’s what Baekhyun presumed, too occupied with the record label that had just signed him under their company, and Baekhyun wanted to be angry, but he couldn’t, especially when Chanyeol had rapped on the door loudly, his breathing ruined as if he had run, which he did, all the way from the inner city of Seoul to the last five minutes Baekhyun was willing to wait. 

“I didn’t forget. I didn’t. Just come with me. Please, Baek.” 

Chanyeol grasped his hand, gentle, led him to his car, and drove them to a hill that overlooked the city, thousands of lights appearing as dots joining the stars in the sky. 

 

_Be mine, I’ll be yours_

 

Chanyeol was assembling a telescope as Baekhyun listened to him explain the one-hour documentary he had watched last night about the brightest objects in outer space. When they were younger, Chanyeol's first dream was to be an astronaut. Baekhyun had cried when Chanyeol told him how far away he would be from him, how long, and he made Chanyeol promise that after he had seen all the stars and moons and marvels he could see up there, he would return to Baekhyun. 

And Chanyeol promised.   

 

_I see my future in your eyes_

 

Arms encircled his waist. He leaned back into Chanyeol's chest, stronger now, his body grown into its height.

He remembered when Chanyeol boarded the cardboard rocket ship he had constructed in his backyard, Baekhyun had asked him to bring a star back, the tiniest one, so it would fit in his room. 

“Chanyeol, I'm not mad,” he said. 

As light streaked across the sky, a cluster of wishing stars, Baekhyun thought no matter how different, unintended directions, life had turned, Chanyeol's dreams changing, his heart never did. It had instead only grown, and continued to grow, containing the galaxies he had wanted to discover, coming in handfuls—a handful for his music, another for his family, another for his friends. A star had definitely been given to him, not by predetermined destiny or the cunning inner workings of the world, but by Chanyeol himself, a handful of his heart. 

 

_Baby, I'm dancing in the dark_

 

“I was going to ask you to dance with me.” 

 

_With you between my arms_

 

Baekhyun smiled and took his hand again. He would always. 

 

_Barefoot on the grass_

_Listening to our favorite song_

 

They didn’t dance, rather held each other. Baekhyun's head lay on Chanyeol’s shoulder as he wandered into the past, the night Chanyeol had kissed him for the first time.

 

_I have faith in what I see_

 

He had invariably fallen into the same places, into the same arms, ended up with the same person that he had been with since the start, on the playground, underneath the cherry blossom tree, his heart exposing a thin opening that Chanyeol had determinedly squeezed through. 

Maybe this would also be his future and years beyond it. 

 

_And he looks perfect_

_I don't deserve this_

 

Chanyeol was wearing a white shirt, untucked and wrinkled, a dried coffee stain near the buttons, sleeves rolled up to reveal the tattoos on his forearm. His hair was tousled, a casualty of Chanyeol's hands tending to run his frustration through it. But as it happens when you fall further and further, and love someone more and more, they become unconditionally beautiful. 

“Thank you Chanyeol.” 

Chanyeol rested his head on top of Baekhyun’s. “You don’t have to thank me.” 

Yes, he did. 

For more than this moment. 

For everything that Chanyeol had brought with him into his life, the happiness, the warmth, the love.

Loving him. 

 

_You look perfect tonight_

 

Byun Baekhyun was eighteen-years-old when he fell in love with Park Chanyeol, much too late but just in time. It happened fast, dipping his feet into what he thought would be shallow water but falling under, his dignity drifting down to the bottom of the ocean in tattered pieces. It was also easy, surprisingly so. He navigated the hallways of Chanyeol’s heart and found doors open, small fragments Chanyeol allowed him to discover like glistening sea glass uncovered by the waves rather than pulled from the sand. It was warm, the way Chanyeol hugged him, took all of him into his lanky arms and bent his head down to tuck snug into the junction of his neck, fitting together, like joining the last piece of a puzzle. It was the comfort, the sound of his voice resounding on the other side of the phone in the morning, telling Baekhyun to “wake up, wake up” then humming along to a tune his dreams composed. His hair, growing longer and longer, in between Baekhyun’s fingers, his eyes looking at him, unbelievingly bright. His lips, plum-soft, saying, “I love you Baekhyun.” 

“I love you too Chanyeol.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This was a late, past midnight, burst of inspiration written in an hour. It's horribly unedited and my thoughts are mashed up.


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